His Secret

15. Adrian

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ADRIAN

“I was thinking about how good it might be to have you on your knees, with a collar around your neck, a leash in my hand, and a riding crop in the other.” He folds his left arm on the table, the fingers on his right hand brushing against his bottom lip. “I was thinking about whether or not you’d obey me, allowing me to use you for my pleasure before I gave you yours.” He drops his other arm, leaning forward slightly as he stares into my eyes. “I was thinking about whether or not you know what it’s like to be with a man. Not a college kid still learning what he likes, but a man who knows what he’s doing. A man who could open your world to things you haven’t thought about.” Leaning back, he shrugs. “I was thinking about whether or not you’d turn me down if I decided to pursue you. Or if you love your wife enough to say no to the first person you ever loved, who loved you back more than you know, who hasn’t stopped thinking about since you walked away from him eight years ago. That’s what I was thinking.”

It’s hard to regret hearing that answer, but part of me does regret asking. My brain is misfiring all over the place, trying to figure out which feelings to feel.

The sexual aspect of his thoughts send a thrill of pleasure down my spine. Intrigue and confusion mix together before realizing he’s questioned whether I’ve been with another man since him while stating he now knows exactly what he wants, and apparently it’s submission. Then he drops the bomb of questioning my loyalty to my wife by informing me he’s at least thought about pursuing me, and what would I do if he tries. Admitting he’s not stopped thinking about me while bringing up the fact that he loved me is an arrow to the heart, and I don’t know what to focus on. What do I respond to first?

I’ll be thinking about his response for a long time, maybe forever.

My lips part and come together, just to part again. “I—” He grins. “I’m not sure how to reply,” I answer honestly.

His head dips slightly. “Fair enough.”

“But,” I start, reaching for a napkin to nervously rip to shreds as I stare at the pieces, “I want you to know I haven’t been with another man since?—”

“Look at me,” he commands.

My eyes meet his and I repeat myself. “I haven’t been with another man since you.”

He inhales. “So, you’re loyal to your wife.”

I keep looking into his eyes, my heart galloping in my chest. “We’ve had our issues.”

He nods once. “I imagine so.”

I look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer. He was right. We shouldn’t be trying to be friends. Or be left alone together.

“I’m sober if you want me to start driving,” I tell him.

Matías watches me for a few seconds. “Okay.”

An hour into the drive, Matías falls asleep, but my brain is wired and I fear I’ll never sleep again. When I do, my dreams will be filled with Matías. When I wake, he’ll still be there, lingering in the corner of my mind.

Love is a strange thing. It’s consuming, yes. Sometimes it’s blind and intoxicating. Other times it’s freeing. It can make you feel warm and protected. It can make you afraid. It’s not ever exactly the same for everyone, but once you love someone, there’s a part of your heart carved out only for them. That’s why it’s hard to move past someone who maybe isn’t right for you. You’ve carved a piece of yourself for them and you don’t want to let it go. You don’t want it to have been for nothing.

I loved Matías. I loved him more than I thought possible. He’s right. He’s the first person I ever fell in love with. I told him so back then. I haven’t seen him in years, and we’ve definitely gone through our own changes, but being in his life now brings everything back. With all the memories, the feelings also come rushing to the forefront. My heart recognizes that he’s the piece that’s been gone. It would be easy to fall in love with him all over again, if the circumstances were right.

But I’m married. I love her. Not in the same way, unfortunately. Not even remotely. But I care about her.

There’s a lot Matías and I have to talk about, but he’s still getting his anger out. He’s not over what I did, and I don’t blame him. We can’t be friends though. He’s right about that. But he should know the truth, even if nothing comes from it.

I drive us all the way home before waking him. I’m in the driveway when I reach over and rest my hand on his shoulder. Even just touching him there has my mind running away from me .

“Matías,” I say softly, watching his face for movement. For no reason other than wanting to, I suppose, I move my hand to his thigh, giving him a little shake. “Matías.”

His hand comes down on mine as he startles awake. He meets my gaze, and my hand burns under the heat of his.

His fingers curl under mine, and for a moment, we’re holding hands.

“We’re home,” I say.

He looks through the windshield, and then lets go of my hand to press a button that opens the garage.

“You can pull in.”

Begrudgingly, I pull my hand from his thigh and put the car in drive.

He opens his door and steps out, so I do the same, both of us stretching as soon as we close the doors.

“Thanks for driving,” he says.

“Sure.”

“You’ve gotten better over time.”

My lips quirk. “I wasn’t bad before.”

He snorts. “Okay. We got pulled over twice while you were driving.”

“But I didn’t actually get a ticket so it doesn’t count.”

Matías smiles at me and my chest warms. “Not sure it works that way.”

With a small shake of his head, he reaches into the back seat to grab his briefcase. After closing the door, he looks at me over the top of the car.

“Goodnight, Adrian.”

I nod my head. “Goodnight, Matías.”

And then I walk out of the garage, through the grass, and straight into my house.